“Why does God keep your mother alive?” A friend asked when she realized my mother didn’t recognize me during a visit to the nursing home. “I can’t understand why God keeps people alive when they’re no longer useful.”

I didn’t take offense because I knew my friend didn’t understand. She saw only the shell of a woman who had once been a capable, vibrant person. She didn’t understand that caring for Mother midst her challenges with Alzheimer’s added a new dimension to my life.

Today as I delivered the final papers to the Probate Court to settle Mother’s estate and bring her affairs to a close, I reflected upon how much she had brought to my life, without her even knowing it. I had watched my grandchildren visit her in the nursing home and laugh when she chattered to them. “Grandma talk to me,” the five year old insisted and babbled to her until Mother smiled.

“Why do you visit Great Grandma when she doesn’t know you?” Someone asked the 7-year old granddaughter. “Because it makes her happy,” Karrie replied. These visits played an important role in their lives for those years we visited the elderly lady. The children accepted her as she was and never wondered why God kept her alive. They only knew they enjoyed their visits and she meant a great deal to our family..

“Your mother has such a wonderful smile,” nursing home staff remarked. “If I’m having a hard day, I stop by her room. She always has a smile for anyone of us who talks to her.”

Yet again, in spite of her Alzheimer’s, Mother brought joy into others’ lives. My life was enriched by caring for her. I realized the truth in the Biblical references to the rewards of compassion for others. I learned about my heritage when she peopled our lives with friends and family and stories she pulled from the past…and thought I was one of the ancestors. I learned patience as I slowed my steps to hers and tried to understand her world.

I learned humor as we laughed over things we couldn’t change. “We don’t laugh enough,” Mother remarked and I realized laughter rather than scolding was important to our relationship.

I learned the deeper love that comes from taking care of someone. And I’ve tried to fill that hole in my life made when she died with appreciation of all that Mother taught me during those Alzheimer’s years.

As I turn the final papers in at the Probate Registry Office and my daughter, grandson and I walk out into the sunshine of an autumn day, I remember how much Mother enjoyed this time of year and am determined to keep her memory alive. We reminisce about Mother on our way home and know we wouldn’t have these memories if God hadn’t kept her alive beyond what many considered her years of usefulness.

(c) 2002 Mary Emma Allen me.allen@juno.com